


Essential

by nenya_kanadka



Series: Getting Better (At Being Haunted) [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Character Study, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Kinky Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Morning After, Poly/mono relationship, Polyamory, Pre-Threesome, Sexual Fantasy, Sort Of, Switching, also sort of, the fluffiest damn thing I've written in this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nenya_kanadka/pseuds/nenya_kanadka
Summary: It doesn't matter to Afsaneh which of them is in charge, so long as they're together. She doesn't want anyone else but Pippa. But—the thought in the back of her mind takes shape, making her stomach clench and her pulse pick up."Tell me what Kat would be like," Afsaneh says, and sees something spark in Pippa's eyes.





	Essential

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caressyouintodarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caressyouintodarkness/gifts).



> For caressyouintodarkness and her fantastic cheerleading. Set in the same universe as [Emperor, Admiral](https://archiveofourown.org/series/937989), but from Afsaneh's POV and sometime before the war. 
> 
> **Random notes:**  
>  *Philippa very much has Kat's okay for this kind of scene with Afsaneh.  
> *My headcanons apparently include that Pippa is an Afsaneh-specific nickname (Kat calls her Philippa).  
> *This fic is setup for/an outtake from some postwar fic with Kat & Afsaneh.

Pippa's hands grip her wrists and Afsaneh lets her head fall back against the pillow with a gasp. Pippa's breath is coming faster against her neck, her knee pressing between Afsaneh's thighs, and it's good—it's good—it's Pippa, strong and naked in her bed, of course it's good. But she wants...

Pippa's lips close around her nipple and Afsaneh rolls her hips up hard against Pippa's knee. She loves the weight above her, loves Pippa holding her down, loves the sheer attention Pippa lavishes on her. There's no one like Philippa Georgiou. No one else she wants like this. Whether Afsaneh's giving as good as she gets—pushing Pippa against the wall like she did the first night of their leave, making Pippa work for it and seeing the glint in her eye as she does her best to make Afsaneh lose concentration—or whether it's Pippa who's biting down her neck, pushing her fingers inside her, making Afsaneh feel _taken care of_ and languid and cherished...there's no one else Afsaneh wants. 

Except.

Except it's never Pippa who surrenders. Not completely, not the way Afsaneh can. They can wrestle for control, and when Afsaneh's on top Pippa grins up at her and makes a show of giving in, because she knows Afsaneh likes it that way too. But she has to _try_ , to turn over control. There's something inside Afsaneh that goes pliant and happy when Pippa growls orders in her ear, and it doesn't work the other way around. 

It doesn't matter to Afsaneh which of them is in charge, so long as they're together. Sometimes no one is, and that's good too. But sometimes she _wants_...

Philippa Georgiou on her knees, with Afsaneh's hand in her hair—Pippa begging—Pippa getting wet when Afsaneh says _no_ and _yes_ —

...no, she can't picture it. It's never worked that way around. 

And as good as Pippa's hands feel around her wrists, tonight it's not quite enough. 

She shuts her eyes, takes a breath. She doesn't want anyone else. But—the thought in the back of her mind takes shape, making her stomach clench and her pulse pick up. Yes. Maybe. 

It's worked before, if not quite like this. _Tell me, Pippa,_ she'll say, and—

Pippa raises her head from between Afsaneh's breasts, eyes dark and hungry, that secret smile on her lips that says _Mine_. Laughing, beautiful, powerful and gentle, and the last piece of the puzzle clicks in place. 

"I've always wondered," Afsaneh gets out, before the delicious undertow can suck her down completely, "what you do with Kat." She can hear the breathy tones to her voice, a slight wobble in the low pitch Pippa loves so much. 

Pippa stills. Her eyes go thoughtful, and she dips her head to kiss Afsaneh's jawline. "You've never asked that before." Her voice drops. "Not in bed." 

Well. Afsaneh swallows, tightens her thighs around the hot press of Pippa's knee. "I'm trying to imagine..." It's not hard, really, but she only has half the story. She lets her voice go heavy and dark with the question. "What you do to her. What she..." 

"You want me to tell you what Katrina is like when she's at my mercy." 

_Oh._ It goes through her like a scythe, and she hardly has to say yes for Pippa to know. It's been easy to guess—it's not like Kat's made a secret of what she likes, and Afsaneh's known her longer than Pippa has. But this...Afsaneh sucks in a breath. 

Her lover's lover. _At my mercy._

_Kat_ on her knees. _Kat_ gasping her name, saying please, saying yes, saying _hurt me_ —

"I want you to tell me," Afsaneh rasps out, "if she would let you share her." She swallows hard, sees something spark in Pippa's gaze. "Tell me what Kat would be like then. At my—" 

She doesn't have time to change it to _at our mercy_ like she means to. Pippa lets go of her wrists to catch the sides of Afsaneh's face and kiss her fiercely. Afsaneh drags her nails down Pippa's spine, arches her back and presses herself against Pippa's hot skin. 

"Anything you want," Pippa says into her ear, meaning what Kat would do, meaning _herself_ , what she'd do to make Afsaneh happy. 

Afsaneh shivers. "Tell me."

* * *

"I could ask Kat, you know," Philippa says offhandedly over croissants the next morning. The view out the balcony of their suite is glorious, straight down the side of an evergreen-covered mountain to a lake so blue it can't possibly be real, but is. They've been having a good-natured argument over whether to go swimming before or after hiking the trail around the shore.

Afsaneh gives a little half-smile. She's still reverberating with the aftershocks, and there is a reason she's arguing for swimming before walking four kilometres. Or for leaving the hike until tomorrow. But she _has_ had time to think about this. 

She looks at Pippa over her coffee. "No," she says. "Thank you, and I do mean that, but I think it's best to leave a threeway in the realm of the imagination." She makes a face at the bitter coffee and reaches for the sugar bowl. 

"You said _me_ at first," Pippa reminds her, reaching over to steal a slice of strawberry. "If three is a crowd..." 

Afsaneh flushes. She can still feel Pippa's fingers inside her, hear the burr of her voice in her ear. _She looks like she wants you to devour her_ and _Tell me where you'd use the crop, Afsaneh. She'd spread her legs and beg for it._

The fantasy is so vivid her fingertips tingle with the heat of Kat's skin. And Pippa doesn't make this sort of offer without meaning it. (Every so often, she asks; every so often, Afsaneh demurs. It only surprises her that she's actually tempted.)

But she shakes her head. "I'm still not built like you are. Or Kat. I can't love everyone all at once." 

Pippa looks amused. "It was never 'everyone.' And Kat says too many people want an admiral these days, not Katrina Cornwell." 

Which is another thing Afsaneh's noticed: It's _Kat_ with Pippa outside the bedroom, but _Katrina_ when she's thinking about the Kat who wants to kneel at her feet. 

"Still. It's you and Chris, at least. And Gabriel. Or are they on the outs again?"

Kat has been with Pippa longer than most of the friends she goes to bed with. The two of them drift apart and together in an irregular rhythm that Afsaneh's long ago given up trying to understand. It suits them, and Kat's way of life. And when Pippa kissed Afsaneh all those years ago, somehow it was all right. 

And all of it means that Kat has no interest whatsoever in the coupled-up old-fashioned partnership Afsaneh has with the woman they both love. Kat was just there first—smart enough to see Pippa right in front of her while Afsaneh was still trying to make it work with Mark. 

Pippa wrinkles her nose. "Yes, no. It's distance. You heard that Gabriel finally got the _Buran_?"

Afsaneh thinks of her first few hectic weeks in the captain's chair twenty years ago, of pre-holo comms with Pippa at the oddest hours. If Gabe and Kat want it, his ship is no more a barrier than Kat's position in the brass. Afsaneh pours more coffee, raises an eyebrow. "No excuse." 

She'd planned to keep the name, at first. Ensign Paris had celebrated her commission till her face hurt from smiling. Commander Paris, executive officer on the _Europa_ , had been a fuck-you to a man who'd begun to want her wings clipped. ( _They have Starfleet jobs on Earth, don't they? You'll go to some strange planet and never come back, Afsaneh, and what will the children do?_ ) But her next promotion came in just before the divorce papers did. She was thirty-seven years old and every _Congratulations, Captain Paris_ made Afsaneh's neck itch. 

Captain Farzan will never marry again. Instead she has a starship and a grandchild due in five months and a woman who takes in Vulcan strays and frightened aliens and refuses to ever, ever give up. And pins her to the bed and _listens_ when she asks for what she needs. 

And she wants...

She has been toying lately with a prospect she would have mocked not so long ago. Mark would have called it _peace and quiet_ or _stability_ , but it feels more like _territory_. Something she can build. There is an opening for chief of station operations on the nearly-completed Starbase One. She's flung herself against the deep black for so long that all the strange planets have begun to blur together. Her brand new shiny ensigns are younger than her second child. Pippa and Gabe still have the spark that sends them out chasing new worlds. But she wants...

It's easy to get lost out there. She wants to be a lighthouse.

She hasn't told Pippa. Maybe after the hike down the mountain. She already knows how often the _Shenzhou_ will likely put in at Starbase One: twice as often as the _Sagittarius_ crosses paths with Pippa's ship now. 

Pippa's watching her. She's finished the fruit plate and her hair is down and she looks so _beautiful_ in the morning light that Afsaneh's chest aches. Does Kat feel this way? Afsaneh supposes so, but she's never known how to ask. 

"It seems unfair to me," Pippa says eventually, and Afsaneh tries to track back through her wandering thoughts to the thread of their conversation. "I may love the way you bend beneath me, but for twenty years of trying I can't give you—" 

"An absolutely filthy taste of what it's like to be you?" Afsaneh's smile feels wicked, and she doesn't even bother to keep her voice free of innuendo. 

It's Pippa who colours this time. "You know what I mean." 

"Yes." Afsaneh's hand strays across the table to brush Pippa's wrist; she turns it over and clasps her hand. "You worry I've locked part of myself away to be with you. Don't." She runs her thumb across the palm of Pippa's hand. "If I wanted to find someone to do everything I want all the time, I would." 

Pippa's lips twitch. "If you think Kat does exactly what I want all the time, you've been _far_ less observant all these years than I thought." 

Afsaneh picks up Pippa's hand and kisses it. The skin of her wrist is soft and delicate, and the barest hint of teeth makes Pippa catch her breath. "Am I?" 

"You—" Pippa swallows. "You wanted to beam down to the lake and hike back up." 

"I have complex tastes," Afsaneh murmurs. The lake is miles away. The bed through the sliding doors is barely steps from the table. And she wants...

Pippa. She wants Philippa.

"Tell me, Pippa," she says. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my secret. It is very simple.  
> It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.  
> —Antoine de Saint Exupéry, _The Little Prince_


End file.
